


but you, my love, were the best dream of all

by hcneylesbian



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Post-S6, Swearing, death mention, hope y'all enjoy it, klance, lance has brown eyes because i say so, this is set like after s6 ends but they've found a planet to camp out on for a bit, which is fuuuuun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 07:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15769746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hcneylesbian/pseuds/hcneylesbian
Summary: “You were a bigger dream than they’ll ever be.”Lance looks stunned momentarily. His eyes meet Keith’s, his eyebrows furrowed, and, consciously or not, he moves closer. So close that Keith can almost feel his shudders, can see the sweat clinging to his baby hairs.“W-what the hell is that supposed to mean?”





	but you, my love, were the best dream of all

**Author's Note:**

> so okay first two tags being angst and fluff--it is angsty but i swear it gets better we'll be okay  
> if you want a super fun song to listen to to think about like when keith was gone... 'nothing compares 2 u' by prince

“Keith, have you talked to Lance _at all_ since you got back?” Hunk questions one afternoon—well, it seems like an afternoon—as they sit eating a yogurt-like substance together. (It’s a bit milkier than the normal stuff.)

Keith pauses, spoon in mouth, to look up at him, a small frown forming on his face. “Er, no? I guess not.”

“Oh, okay.” To Keith’s inquisitive look, he continues, “Well I just—he’s not talking a whole lot in general lately, like to _anybody_ , and I’m a little worried.”

Keith inhales.

He feels a weird anxiety, like gross sludge, jostling in his stomach.

He’s wanted to talk to Lance. He’s wanted to for _months_. And of course, he brushed the boy off when he first came back, and that’s on the Top Ten Stupidest Things he’s ever done list.

They never talked much after.

And he has to apologize. Never did he want to make things worse.

“I—d’you think I should try now?”

Hunk shrugs. “Sure. See if you can get him out of whatever shell it is that he’s created for himself.”

Keith squeezes his eyes shut, nodding, and he knows he must go through with this. He’s not fantastic at comforting people—but hell, he and Lance grew closer before he left, right? It couldn’t be _that_ bad.

“Oooh, shells? Have you any? I love making shell necklaces!” Romelle says cheerfully as she joins them, her own snack in hand. She seats herself close to Hunk, asking if he thinks Allura would like a necklace, and waves at Keith as he exits.

It takes a lot of breathing and pacing to calm down as Keith approaches Red, where he assumes Lance has holed himself up.

As the leader, as this boy’s _friend_ (he hopes he is, at least), he convinces himself this is for the best. No matter how Lance reacts, he has to get this awful feeling in his gut to go away.

Ever since he got back, aside from a couple jokes here and there, Lance has pulled back. He’s resigned, he’s quiet, he’s drawn in on himself.

Keith needs to see the boy smile again.

The gargantuan lion before him is lax, lost of all energy. Its mouth hangs open just slightly, and with some gentle coaxing, he’s allowed enough room to enter.

With some wandering past the cockpit in his old, familiar lion, he hears grunting. He peers around a corner, and he can see Lance doing some exercises, the cramped room not allowing for any combat training.

Keith’s eyes latch onto the flex of his muscles as he moves, the sweat coating them, his arms bigger than he remembers.

He’s stronger.

After a few more pushups, the boy collapses to the ground, rolling over to sit against the wall.

Keith smiles a little, thinking back to the times when they trained together, how much fun it was to see him so proud and _exhausted_ , but somehow refreshed, after a good workout.

Lance is sweaty and tired like usual, but with those lines under his eyes, dragging down with them his charisma—he’s _really_ tired.

And he looks broken.

“Need something?” he asks simply, staring up at Keith from his spot on the ground, startling him back to _now_. He lifts a juice box to his lips, looking the most serious a human can possibly look doing so.

“Uh, yeah,” he nods, clears his throat. “Lance, I wanted to apologize.”

For a millisecond, he can see the boy consider him, look at him like he used to before he left.

But that’s all shoved away as he lifts a wall further between them with his words.

“No need, buddy. Don’t worry about it.” He goes to stand and tosses his juice box to a small bag for trash he keeps in here.

(And with that, Keith thinks dramatically, probably any last remaining sense of their bond).

“You can just move along, continue on with whatever mission may come your way. I don’t need your—your pity, or whatever.”

Keith looks at him quizzically. “That’s not what I meant—that—I’m not—“

The boy raises an eyebrow, pulls a small towel flush against his neck, which Keith tries very hard not to focus on. “What?”

“I’m not _pitying you_ , you—just listen, okay?” Lance says nothing, and doesn’t move, so Keith takes it as a sign to carry on. “I’ve never been fantastic with words, so I’m sorry if it came off that way, but—“

“But your actions didn’t help you either. What, forget who I am in your time away?”

Keith sputters, then sighs. “Lance, _what_?”

Lance casts his eyes to the ground, shakes his head. “Nothing, just, go on.”

Eyeing him carefully, Keith says, “I’m sorry I left you, and I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it before. I’m sorry for being a dick when I got back. I know that…things didn’t go well for you for a while.”

Lance’s jaw sets. “Yeah, Keith, it didn’t go well.” He sucks on his teeth. “You wanna know something? I literally fucking _died_ , and one person gave a shit. _One._ It was…I’m still having nightmares.” He pauses, his breath trembling, and for a moment Keith thinks he’s going to snap and yell at him to go away, but instead Lance continues like he can’t stop. “I’m trying to do everything I can to stay strong but I’m _scared_ it’s going to happen again. I might not see my family again.”

Keith’s lungs feel cold.

“I’m—I’m sorry. I didn’t know you—you _died_?!.”

Lance looks him over, harshly wiping away the tears that prickle at his eyes. “Yeah, well, wouldn’t want to worry the hero over something so miniscule, since at least I’m alive now.”

Though he doesn’t want to be snippety with Lance who just admitted that he _fuckingdiedwhatthefuck_ , he feels frustration and confusion and terror swelling in his chest. It would be so easy to snap like usual, or start freaking out that Lance could have been _gone_ , but he takes a deep breath.

“Lance, I’m really sorry. That’s-that’s awful, I wish I was here…” To stop himself from rambling, he refocuses on the topic at hand. “I just, uh… what’s your problem with me? I know you’re angry that I left, but I had to. It was best for the team, and it worked out _fine_. I came back.”

Then Lance is shouting. “Best for the team?” He refuses to move from where he’s standing, but the anger—maybe not _just_ anger, but—it’s big enough to fill the space between them. “What about the fact that we couldn’t do the show right for a while, because Shiro—not real Shiro, but, whoever the fuck—he couldn’t pilot Black? The missions we struggled through, fighting Lotor, and, and _I_ —“ he pants, “Never mind.”

Keith feels his face get warmer by the second, and he bites his lip back to prevent tears from falling, listening to this boy’s _anguish_.

“Lance, I can’t change that. I never thought I’d cause so much hurt. But I…I made it back,” he pleads.

“What, and I was supposed to sit idly by? Because you have these dreams about being some war-ridden hero?” Lance’s chest is heaving.

And it all comes crashing down.

Keith might never get their bond back.

The one thing, other than his big brother, that kept him going. The memories that chased off the worst of his nightmares.

Of Lance smiling, wrestling him over stupid fights, stealing some of his food when he thought Keith couldn’t see.

Pressing their shoulders together when they ended a tough mission. A simple, ‘ _it’ll be okay, I’ve got you buddy,’_ without words.

Just how long he thought about their hands entwined together so long ago.

It all goes twisting down the drain, wrenching out of his chest.

“You were a bigger dream than they’ll ever be.”

Lance looks stunned momentarily. His eyes meet Keith’s, his eyebrows furrowed, and, consciously or not, he moves closer. So close that Keith can almost feel his shudders, can see the sweat clinging to his baby hairs.

“W-what the _hell_ is that supposed to mean?”

“It-it doesn’t matter, Lance.” His skin warms up, feels itchy, he wants to get out. “You’ve always found other people and I just didn’t think you would care so much.”

Lance finally relaxes his tense shoulders, then scoffs. “Well that’s stupid.”

“ _What_?”

“Of course I cared!” He takes a step forward, grasping Keith’s shoulders under bone-white fingers, pulling him _that much_ closer. “You were the person I felt most comfortable with on this team. You made me miss home less. Sometimes…I could pretend I _was_ home.”

He searches Keith’s eyes, an intensity with which he’s only ever seen when Lance hones in on a target with his sniper, licking his lips before slowly exhaling. And _bam_.

Making the shot.

He always did.

“And then you were gone. And I couldn’t even talk to you, unless you were on the stupid holo-screen for some stupid mission.”

“I know, Lance.” The boy’s breath hits his face, even more rapid than his own. He feels frozen under Lance’s touch. “I hated it, too. I missed you. I missed talking to you, and when I did something really cool or whatever, for the longest time, I looked back to say something to you. But…”

But, for half a second, Keith sees a smile. Lance’s gentle browns soften, and he releases his vice grip, just resting his hands on Keith’s shoulders.

“You weren’t there. And I wanted to share those moments with you again, like when you’d pull off some amazing shot. And I…I had to get back to you alive. I’m sorry it was so late.”

Again, Lance doesn’t speak for a moment, just nods. His thumb strokes small circles into Keith’s neck.

“Keith, I don’t have to be just a dream. I’m not. I’m here…always have been.”

“H-huh?”

And then he’s even closer, using the advantage of his position to slide his hands so his fingers brush against Keith’s back, his forearms now on his shoulders.

And _god,_ _he’s so close,_ and Keith can see speckles of gold in Lance’s eyes and they’re _gorgeous_ and _smiling_ and _he’s_ gorgeous and he’s so _fucking_ close and Keith can’t stand up right anymore.

And then there’s another feeling.

Lance’s mouth is soft, guiding him into this touch that has Keith’s heart thumping at a rate he would think is impossible. The boy circles his arms fully around Keith’s neck, and when he breaks away—what, moments later? Minutes? Hours?—he rests his head on his shoulder.

“See? Not a dream.”

Keith’s mind is overwhelmed with thoughts and screaming compliments at Lance and freaking out about how many places they’re touching right now, and Keith can barely think up the response.

“Um, thank you. I—me neither?”

He can feel Lance chuckling against his neck, and he stays there, almost on tip-toe, holding Keith in a firm grip that he returns the best he can. As much as it tickles, he can stay there as long as he wants, if he’s this happy. “I’m sorry for being so angry, I just—I missed you. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t come back.”

Keith pulls back enough to look at him, startling Lance enough to open his eyes—and goddamn it his face is so confused and crumpled and his cheek has a line from Keith’s shirt and he’s stupidly cute.

“Woah there, dude, you literally _did_ die, let’s talk about that first.” He brushes away a hair on Lance’s forehead. “And I expected you to like, punch me, or something.” Lance smiles sheepishly, which causes Keith to simmer down even more. “ _And_ you don’t have to apologize for being angry. It’s okay.”

Lance’s smile turns even sweeter somehow, and he nods. “Thanks, man. I—I guess I needed to, uh, talk it out.”

“Shout it out,” Keith teases, to a small punch from Lance, who’s laughing, saying a little, _shut up._ “And _you’re_ okay, now. I’m here for you.”

“Same to you, Mullet.” Lance lifts himself enough to connect their lips again, and curls his fingers into the ends of said ‘mullet.’ Keith relishes in this feeling, being so close.

Lance is everything he could ever ask for.

He’ll never leave his side again.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! leave kudos/comment if you feel up to it, i appreciate ya either way.  
> if you really liked it, i might consider a part two, per se  
> ps yes i know the ending is corny as hell but........let me live ok


End file.
